


Collision

by intheKnickoftime



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmates and Colors, a late lauki week offering, gosh they both have such pretty eyes don't they, how completely and utterly unsurprising, introspection again, two for the price of one!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intheKnickoftime/pseuds/intheKnickoftime
Summary: lauki week: soulmates and colorsanother soulmate au:one in which you can see all colors but one- the color of your soulmate's eyes- until you make eye contact for the first time.pretty cool in some contexts.decidedly not when you're an officer and an assassin in an alleyway.
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White
Comments: 18
Kudos: 85





	Collision

**Author's Note:**

> QUICK QUICK POST BEFORE SLEEP AHAH

Lauren Sinclair did not know what blue was.

Hadn’t, anyways- until now-

-and she hadn’t known it would be like _this,_ cold and bright and held in the vibrant eyes of a _murderer._

She can’t move, can’t think, can’t do anything but stare mutely into the eyes of this stranger, this _criminal_ she has just chased across rooftops and down to this alleyway, who is holding a _sword,_ of all things, to her neck. And in that pause, he stares back just as intensely, and something seems to click into place, but-

  
  
_No._

Lauren grit her teeth, pushing back as his blade lowers unconsciously, sending the sword skittering to the side and the stranger, the suspect, collapsing to the ground.

“You,” she pants, scrambling to restrain him, winded from the chase, breath catching for a reason she can’t afford to consider, “have the right to remain silent.”

The only response is a low laugh, ragged at the edges, an echo of her own disbelief. And, too, of the reluctant sort of wonder that has welled up, for now she can see _blue_ , glimmers of this new color flaring from spaces she hadn’t even realized were colorless, before. 

She fights to keep her hand from trembling as it closes around her gun, shutting her eyes, trying to keep herself grounded with the cool bite of the metal in her grip.

It doesn’t work- and, worse yet, she’s not even sure why she’s shaking.

  
  


\- - - - -

_“Gold,”_ Kieran can’t stop himself from breathing, even as the officer on top of him clicks the safety of her revolver. It’s almost an afterthought, as his chin is pressed to the ground and he cannot see her anymore, but the flash of those _eyes_ , that _new_ color _,_ is seared into his mind nonetheless. Even from his vantage point, he can catch the far-off glimmer of street lamps, shining just a bit warmer than before. _Yellow._ He’s seeing yellow- so _this_ is what it looks like.

He laughs again, a reckless chuckle rattling around his chest, despite the fact that he has just been _caught_ and should decidedly not be finding anything to be amused about, in this scenario.

“Beautiful.”

“Shut up,” she bites out, almost pleadingly. _“Don’t.”_

“You’re not going to shoot me like this, are you, darling?” Bad idea- he should not be goading her, but he can’t stop himself from shuffling, tilting his head sideways and grinning, trying to catch another glimpse of her eyes. “We haven’t even introduced ourselves properly.”

“I know everything I need to know about you,” she growls, practically sparking with terror, with shock and righteous anger. “A _murderer._ An assassin. With the Phantom Scythe, of all things.” A hollow laugh comes next, conveying anything but amusement. “Just my luck.”

And Kieran remembers that he _had_ seen her before, that very morning- but they had not made eye contact, and he had not known then-

But he remembers one thing clearly, something curious he had observed in the sun-tinted light of that cafe:

This woman can hear lies.

**“I’m not part of the Scythe-”** a test, a pointless untruth. He knows she knows what he is- the blood is literally on his hands, after all, speckling his wrists and shirt like a painting gone awry.

“ _Don’t_ even think about lying to me.” Sure enough, her grip on him tightens, voice and hands shaking.

“Hmm,” he hums, shifting his shoulders, turning to catch the edge of her gaze with his own, feeling nearly breathless at the sight of that fierce, sparking gold.

“You hate them,” he realizes, recognizing the futile rage in her furrowed brows and clenched hands. “The Scythe. It’s personal for you.”

“Shut _up,_ ” she growls once more, forcing him flat to the ground again, breaking their eye contact. She’s livid now- and that, combined with the gun in her hands, would be enough to shut any sensible man up.

But perhaps he’s feeling less than sensible tonight, because the next thing that comes out of his mouth is a proposition.

\- - - - -

His sketches have always been black and white, but as his pencil scratches feverishly at his paper, outlining that strangest moment of _hesitation-_ Kieran has added no color, but he can still see it, in his mind’s eye, that moment of blue meeting gold, of coming face to face with-

He shakes his head tiredly, carding a hand restlessly through his hair. A police officer, of all people. One who could hear _lies,_ of all things.

_She’s likely_ just _as enthused about this as you are,_ he concedes, a dry chuckle escaping from beneath the curtain of his untied hair.

And yet- Kieran can’t help but wonder what it had looked like to her, seeing blue for the first time. He thinks about the deal he had offered up, a halfway desperate chance at _finally_ uncovering some part of the truth, at being able to do _something._ The smallest act of defiance against his bonds.

His eyes dart sideways and down, staring for a moment into the bulb of his lamp, white tinged with that new golden hue. When he shuts his eyes against the glare, spots dancing beneath the lids, he wonders if he might see those eyes again, tomorrow.

\- - - - -

That damned vase was keeping Lauren awake.

She shifts restlessly for another moment before sitting up to glare at the thing, which was sitting, perfectly innocent and cheerfully blue, on her bedside table. 

It was the exact shade of those _eyes-_

She cast an unimpressed frown at it. No, it wasn’t. 

The assassin’s eyes had been a bright blue, startlingly so, and even being able to see this new shade of color? She hadn’t seen anything quite the same.

Just as well, she thinks firmly, rolling over once more.

She finds she does not want to dwell on the assassin- or his proposition- or _any_ of it- for longer than she has to.

(And yet.)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> IT HAS BEEN  
> EIGHTY FOUR YEARS  
> AND THIS IS ALL I HAVE TO SHOW FOR MYSELF-
> 
> (okay, that's a lie- I'm sitting on a pile of half-finished docs. but those will come later.)
> 
> I hadn't initially planned to participate in lauki week, because school (and attempting to kick my procrastination habits) have been kicking my but, _but..._ this prompt popped into my head and I had to, late though it is, and despite the fact that I have already written a Lauki soulmate au. 
> 
> I've been consistently busy as of late, but am chipping away at a few fics at once as I find time- I'm hoping to have the next chapter of Time Runs Short done within a week or two- no set dates, but it's coming, I promise. As are a few other things.
> 
> Kudos and comments are dearly appreciated- it's always lovely hearing from you guys! Thank you for your patience <333


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